


21st Century Breakdown

by FanGirlAndProudOfIt, vampiremiw



Series: Ordinary World [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, dumbass kids don't know how to talk about shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlAndProudOfIt/pseuds/FanGirlAndProudOfIt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampiremiw/pseuds/vampiremiw
Summary: Yuri likes screaming about surface level feelings. Otabek thinks he can lock his in a box and they'll go away.Turns out dating for several months and not talking about your problems is a bad thing.





	1. Prologue--First One to Run

**Author's Note:**

> These two are a MESS.
> 
> This definitely works better in the context of the rest of the series. At least read Song of the Century first.

Yuri grew four inches in two months at the start of the summer. It was a constant ache deep inside him and he didn’t understand where his own body was in space anymore. He hated it and he hated the summer heat, but summer meant he still had time. Summer could last forever for all he cared. Because the Winter Olympics were in a matter of months and he could hardly even land his jumps.

He fell. Doing a fucking double.

Forget improving anything anymore, it was like he had to start over from square one, learn how to skate all over again. Just fucking relearn how to move his legs. Yakov wouldn’t let him do anything more than doubles for the time being. How the hell was he supposed to learn anything if he couldn’t actually skate it?

He understood the logic. Maybe, because he knew he’d only get hurt if he tried. That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating as all hell. The frustration just built and built inside of him, with no good source to turn it out on. He wished there was a good way to get in a fist fight with himself.

Growling, he picked himself up off his ass.

“Yakov!” he shouted across the rink. “I’m taking a fucking break!”

He didn’t wait to listen to Yakov’s grumbled response. He skated over to the edge of the rink and let his skates hit the wall with a loud thunk.

He made his way over to one of the benches and sat down hard. He didn’t know what he was going to do with himself. He knew if he let it get to him, it would just make it worse. But then that just made him more frustrated because he couldn’t control his body _or_ his emotions. Every single part of him was trying to fuck him over.

“Hey.”

Yuri looked up to see Otabek standing at the wall of the rink. Otabek, the other piece of stress here. They’d been together close to half a year and Yuri was in love with him but things were also a little weird between them lately, when he was being honest with himself. He didn’t know what any of that meant or what to do with it.

“What the hell do you want?” he said.

Otabek didn’t even flinch; he’d gotten used to Yuri greeting him like that over the past few weeks. As the tension inside Yuri grew, it got harder to keep it out of his voice.

“We’re still on for tonight, yeah?” Otabek asked.

“Oh,” Yuri said, rubbing his eyes, trying to clear his head. “Yeah.”

He didn’t like being this way. Even if Otabek didn’t seem bothered, Yuri didn’t want to make a habit of talking to his boyfriend like that. It might have been a little late for that, though. He could at least stop it from going further. Maybe. Fuck he was being such a piece of shit.

“Cool.” Otabek gave him a thumbs up.

Otabek skated away, back to actual practice. Didn’t ask how Yuri’s day was going, or if he was okay after watching him eat shit on the ice two minutes before. Yuri squeezed his eyes closed and leaned back against the wall. Like maybe if he didn’t have to see the world it didn’t have to bother him.

He knew that was stupid, though. He knew he’d have to deal with all this shit at some point. He opened his eyes again, in time to see Otabek land a triple.

…

Yuri woke up the next morning with his face in Otabek’s hair and Otabek’s warm breath on his chest. Otabek lay there next to him with the morning light on his face, Yuri’s own soft shadow falling across his skin. It must’ve still been early because it wasn’t disgustingly hot in Yuri’s apartment yet. The light was still pale and Otabek was still asleep and he looked absolutely beautiful.

The night before had been nice. Not amazing, but nice. It was nice to spend time together, even if they hadn’t talked much. It was nice just to have Otabek’s steady presence near him, something grounding and solid when it felt like a struggle just to keep his own feet beneath himself.

There were moments when Yuri could forget how fucked things felt, or moments where he could try. But then he put his arm around Otabek’s shoulders and he realized just how much bigger he’d gotten.

When he and Otabek first started dating, Otabek could pull Yuri into his arms and Yuri would feel like he could lose himself entirely there, but at some point they had crossed over and it was like the whole thing had been reversed. Yuri was nearly half a foot taller and he hated it. It felt like he had to be… he wasn’t sure what. Something. The one Otabek could lose himself in, instead of the other way around.

Otabek was so pretty, asleep next to him, and Yuri got this sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched the shallow movements of his breathing. By this point, they’d been together so much longer than he’d ever expected them to last and things were shifting between them and he wasn’t sure how to keep up. There were so many things to relearn and he wasn’t sure how to do any of it.

Otabek slowly blinked his eyes open, and a smile spread across his face as he looked up at Yuri. Smiling was good. Smiling meant things were okay, meant Otabek at least didn’t feel like things were as fucked up as Yuri did.

Yuri forced a smile onto his own face “Morning, Beka,” he said, leaning over to kiss the side of his jaw.

“Morning,” Otabek said.

He slid a hand into Yuri’s hair and pulled him into a real kiss. It was gentle and sweet, the way they only tended to be when they were both just waking up like this. The rest of the time, they didn’t really try to be gentle with each other.

Yuri traced his fingers down Otabek’s back, bringing his hand to rest on his hip and pulling him closer. Yuri could never have him close enough. Never close enough to feel like he wasn’t about to slip through his fingers. Otabek broke away to kiss Yuri’s cheek, his neck, his collarbone.

Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek. “You’re cute, Beka,” he said.

Otabek smiled and kissed Yuri again. “You’re cuter,” he said, so close Yuri could feel his lips quirk up in a smile.

It was all so damn sweet.

He couldn’t keep it up any longer. He pulled back and let himself flop onto the bed. “Thank _god_ we don’t have practice today,” he groaned.

Otabek watched him with sympathy, or concern or something. It was kind of hard for Yuri to tell what he was thinking a lot of the time. “Yeah,” he said. “How are you doing?”

Yuri frowned. “What do you think?”

“Bad?”

“Yeah. Ugh, look at this shit.” He gestured to the bruises on his knees and elbows, the bandages on his hand. The bandages were his own damn fault; he had a disagreement with his skate guards.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I remember the growth spurt thing,” Otabek said. “It’s not fun.”

Yuri felt a twinge of annoyance. He wasn’t quite sure at what. It felt sort of… dismissive? No, that wasn’t quite right. “No shit,” he said.

Otabek’s phone buzzed before he could respond. He frowned. “Hang on,” he said.

He rolled over, breaking the contact with Yuri to check the message.

Yuri lay there, watching Otabek’s face in profile as his frown deepened even more.

“Is everything okay?” Yuri asked.

“It’s just my brother,” Otabek said, his face returning to normal. “Wanted to make sure we’re still skyping later.” He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and rolled back onto his side to face Yuri.

Yuri didn’t want to do this again. It felt like a conversation they’d already had. More than once. But he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t shake this feeling. And he didn’t know what else to do about it. He’d tried getting Otabek to talk to him before and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere, but dammit if he wasn’t good at doing the same stupid shit over and over. “Everything’s good, right?” Yuri asked. “You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Otabek said, nodding.

“Really?” Yuri said. “You’ve seemed sort of… off.”

“There’s just been a lot going on,” he said. “You know, getting ready for the Olympics. I’ve been a little worried about you, I guess.”

“You’re sure?” Yuri asked.

“Well, there is _something_ that’s bothering me,” Otabek said.

“What?” Yuri was suspicious. With the tone of voice and the way Otabek was looking at him, he was pretty sure this was going to be something dumb.

“Your clothes,” Otabek said. “I think you should take them off.”

Yuri pointedly looked down. Both of them were only wearing boxers. “That’s fucking stupid,” he said.

“You’re really hot, though.”

“Wow, you’re embarrassing,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes.

“I know,” Otabek said. Then his expression changed, he fixed Yuri with an intense look. “You want to, though?”

Yuri had some idea of what Otabek was trying to do; he’d sort of gotten used to it. Suggesting they fuck instead of talk about anything. But _damn_ the look he was giving Yuri was hot. There would be time to talk later, when there were less distractions.

Yuri smirked. He leaned in close, like he was going to kiss Otabek, but stopped just before. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think I need some convincing.”

“Alright,” Otabek said, returning Yuri’s gaze. He propped himself up on one elbow, so he could look down at Yuri. His eyes moved across his body.

It was enough to quiet down the thoughts about conversations they should be having. He could feel himself getting hard.

Later. They would talk later.

Otabek sat up and moved to straddle Yuri, running his hands down his sides, stopping at his hips. He leaned down and kissed his stomach, dragged his lips across Yuri’s skin.

Yuri’s breath caught as Otabek moved his mouth across his hip bone. He liked to be the one leading things during sex most of the time, but sometimes he did like to give in and let Otabek do what he wanted.

Otabek slipped his fingers under the hem of Yuri’s boxers, then looked up at him, silently asking permission. Yuri gave a tiny nod and Otabek slid them down. They’d been sleeping together for a while and they’d both gotten much better at undressing each other. It was far less clumsy and awkward than it had been in the beginning.

He moved down to place himself between Yuri’s legs, kissed his stomach, his hip, the inside of his thigh. He bit down and Yuri gasped. He worked his way up, his lips soft against Yuri’s skin. Then, finally, Otabek took hold of Yuri’s dick, working his hand over it.

“ _Shit_ ,” Yuri gasped.

Otabek watched Yuri as he put his mouth on him, licking up the shaft and swirling his tongue around the top.

“Oh, fuck, Beka,” Yuri said, his voice gone high and breathy. He curled a hand into Otabek’s hair, pulling him closer. Closer so he was still there, so there was something between them besides dodged questions and forced sweetness.

Otabek took him into his mouth, moving up and down, as Yuri gasped and twisted under him. He tried not to think about the rest of it, just focus on how Otabek’s mouth felt around him.

He pulled back and grinned at Yuri. “Convinced?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I want to be on top,” Yuri said.

He grabbed Otabek’s shoulders and pulled him up to where they were face to face, held him there for a moment to bite at his neck. Then Yuri flipped them over. He curled a hand into Otabek’s hair, grinding against him, watching the way his mouth fell open when he gasped.

It was fine with him if this was what Otabek wanted to spend their morning doing. It was fine.

“Roll over?” Yuri said. He didn’t let himself stop to think about why he asked that.

“Okay,” Otabek said. He seemed to be into it, judging from the smirk on his face. He pushed Yuri back a little to give himself the space he needed.

Yuri hung back until he’d settled himself again, then he pushed his hips down against Otabek’s ass. Otabek made a muffled little sound as he pushed back against Yuri.

Yuri leaned down to bite at his neck and Otabek let out a gasp. He traced his fingers over the tattoo between his shoulder blades, down the lines of his back to his (stupid fucking Calvin Klein) underwear. He pulled them down, dragging his fingers against Otabek’s skin as he went. He sat up so he could toss them aside and grab the lube and a condom from the nightstand.

“Are you ready?” Yuri asked.

“Yeah,” Otabek breathed out. Wow, he sure sounded ready.

Yuri moved back and got the lube ready on his fingers. He grabbed Otabek’s hip with his other hand while he pressed in the first finger and Otabek moaned. Yuri didn’t wait long before adding the other fingers; he wanted to get to the good part. Otabek was gasping under him by the time he got three in.

Otabek reached back and grabbed Yuri’s arm hard. “Fuck me,” he said.

Yuri grinned. “Come on, ask nicely,” he said, teasing.

Otabek hesitated, probably rolling his eyes. “Please fuck me?”

Not as hot as Yuri was hoping for. He didn’t feel like dragging it out long enough to make Otabek beg for it properly. That would have to be for another time, when he wasn’t trying to lose himself in this as quickly as possible….

Yuri wiped the lube off his fingers with the sheet so he could open the condom himself and put it on. Otabek just waited while Yuri positioned himself and pushed in.

“Ah, _shit_ ,” Otabek gasped out. His knuckles went white as he gripped onto the sheets below him.

And then Yuri was _gone_ , lost in the feeling of it. He wrapped his arms around Otabek’s waist, digging his fingers hard into his skin. The pace he set was hard and fast, leaving no space for anything else.

Otabek gasped and moaned underneath him, made all sorts of great sounds that Yuri hardly noticed. He didn’t move much, he kinda just lay there and let Yuri fuck him into the mattress.

The last time they’d done it like this, Otabek had reached back and buried his hands in Yuri’s hair and pulled him down while they fucked and it had been just about the hottest thing ever. All he’d been able to think was “I love you I love you I love you I love you.” It had been so hard not to actually say it. Yuri had been hoping it would be like that again this time, but this was fine too. This was okay. At least it was easier not to say anything he’d regret this time. At least during sex it was easier to push out thoughts he didn’t want to deal with.

He had a feeling Otabek was doing the same thing.

His fingers were going numb, with how tight he was holding onto Otabek. He could feel himself getting closer to cumming, long before he was ready for it. He tried to hold it back, drag this out just a little longer.

Otabek came first, twisting beneath him. He let out a wordless gasp where Yuri was used to hearing his own name.

“Do you want me to... “ Yuri started, when he was sure he was done.

“No, you can keep going,” Otabek said.

Yuri kept moving and it was only a moment before he finished too. For a few glorious seconds, the orgasm left his head entirely blank.

He collapsed against Otabek, letting go of his waist. It wasn’t exactly the best sex ever. It didn’t leave him feeling quite the way he’d hoped for. It had still been good, though.

He rolled off Otabek and moved to the side so they could see each other. Otabek met his gaze with a smile that didn’t look quite right. Yuri glanced down to see faint bruises above his hips, where his hands had been.

“That was great,” Otabek said.

“Yeah,” Yuri said.

He thought about kissing Otabek, but he didn’t. He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for his own breathing to settle and his body to return to its usual state of aching and feeling all out of place.

Otabek’s fucking phone buzzed again. Yuri watched him check the text out of the corner of his eye. Otabek’s face was blank as he read it. Weirdly blank. He typed out a brief response and tossed the phone back onto the nightstand.

“Who was that?” Yuri asked.

“Just my brother still,” Otabek said, dismissive.

Yuri sat up and looked down at him. “Okay, seriously, is something up?” he asked. “You’ve been _weird_.”

“You’ve asked me that like eight times,” Otabek said. “Everything’s fine.”

It was like talking to a wall. Yuri wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he wasn’t sure how to get anything else out of him. He studied Otabek’s face for a moment, then looked away. He folded his arms over himself, strangely aware of how he hadn’t put his clothes back on yet.

“Okay,” he said, unsure of what else to say.

Otabek sat up and faced him. “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” he said.

Yuri frowned. “Yeah,” he said.

“I should get going, though,” Otabek said. “Told my siblings I’d skype with them.”

“Oh. Okay, have fun, I guess.”

“I will,” Otabek said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He ran a hand through Yuri’s hair, leaning over to kiss him.

Yuri kissed him back, but it was quick. He leaned against the wall and watched Otabek as he got up and got dressed, laced up his shoes. He came back to kiss Yuri once more. It made a strange picture, Otabek dressed and ready to walk out the door, Yuri in nothing at all.

“I can lock the door,” Otabek said. “You don’t need to get up.”

“Okay,” Yuri said.

Otabek stopped in the bedroom door and waved to him on his way out. Yuri closed his eyes and listened to his footsteps, the front door opening and closing, the final click of the lock. The morning was moving on outside and the day was starting to get hot for real. He lay back on his bed and stared up at the blankness of the ceiling, very aware of how alone he was.


	2. Condemnation Is What I Understood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow hair care became an infighting incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suprise Bitch Guess What's Not Abandoned: this fic.

Victor enjoyed people watching. Sitting in public transport, or at Yu-Topia Katsuki, observing small moments in a stranger’s deep and expansive life. It wasn’t something he’d always enjoyed. In the days before Yuuri, he’d been so preoccupied with himself and his obsession with  _ surprising  _ strangers to observe them. But now he took care to observe the people around him.

So in addition to observing strangers, he observed his friends. Victor knew he wasn’t the most sensitive of people (Yuuri could certainly vouch for that), so he tried to curb that by actually paying attention.

Unfortunately, observing the lives of those you cared about sometimes felt like watching a train wreck in slow motion. And this kind of train wreck was one he was already too familiar with.

He wasn’t certain about any of the details of Yuri and Otabek’s relationship. They hardly talked about it with other people. But he could see the way Otabek looked at Yuri, leaning against the outside of the rink wall. And he could see how Yuri was almost making a show of not looking at Otabek, while he practiced a single flip (the latest growth spurt was hitting the poor kid hard) out on the ice.

Victor knew this. He and his Yuuri had had their own share of problems, but he didn’t think they had pushed it this far before the inevitable fight. Of course, it was almost impossible to tell how bad it had gotten between Yuri and Otabek. Although Yuri spent a lot of time yelling about his feelings, that was just the surface level things and underneath that he could be just as closed off as Otabek.

Otabek, he’d learned, was an even bigger enigma than he’d originally thought. He was a great skater, and he seemed to know it. He wasn’t like his Yuuri where that fact had to be constantly slammed into his head by multiple people. But Otabek was also incredibly, painfully, shy. 

On the surface he came off as simply a loner or closed off. But interacting with him, Victor couldn’t help but notice a certain level of skittishness; and watching him interact with Mila or even Yuuri, Victor could see him subtly looking for escape routes. He’d never done that with Yuri. Well, not until recently. 

While Yuuri took a water break, Victor watched Otabek sit down on the bench, check his phone, and immediately frown. It wasn’t a frown Victor had ever seen on Otabek’s face. He looked... sad. Lost. Victor knew that look. He’d seen it in the mirror every day for nearly ten years.

Yuri skated up to the barrier, brows furrowed.

“Beka, you okay?”

Otabek immediately put his phone in his back in his bag.

“Fine. Just my sister.”

Yuri hesitated. “Is...  _ she  _ okay?”

Otabek shrugged. “She’s fine. Trouble with homework.”

Yuri bit his bottom lip. “You’re sure?”

“I’m fine, Yura,” Otabek said, harshly.

Victor watched as Yuri pulled back from the barrier, visibly hurt, swallowed that hurt, and went back to his practice.

“ _ Fuck _ , he’s out of my league,” Otabek muttered as he watched him go, before taking off his skate guards and going back on the ice.

“Wow,” Yuuri said, from behind Victor. “That was... painful.”

Victor nodded. “It’s getting worse.”

“I give it a week before they have some kind of blowout.”

Finally, Victor turned to look at him. “Sensitive,” Victor said, dryly.

Yuuri shrugged, sheepish. “I’m worried.”

Victor watched as Yuri stepped out of another jump, and Otabek skated alone in the far corner of the rink.

“Yes. So am I.

* * *

 

” They both went back to Otabek’s apartment after practice. Not because Yuri really wanted to, or they were actually going to talk to each other or do anything fun. Just because it was habit at that point. The path of least resistance or whatever. It was easier to go sit at Otabek’s place and try to think of something to say to each other to break the strange icy silence than sit at home and try to come up with a text message to do the same.

So Yuri sat on the couch, with a hair tie in one hand and a brush in the other, trying to fight his fucking hair into a braid or something, anything that wasn’t in his face. He could see his reflection in the black screen of the TV. And he could see Otabek over his shoulder, back in the kitchen, turned away from him. Not well; it would have been easier in in the bathroom mirror. But not getting up was even easier than that.

And in here at least he was still in the same space as Otabek. That was mostly all he could ask for, the past few… days? Weeks? He wasn’t sure how long it had been.

The braid slipped out of his hair again, before he could get it tied in place.

“Fuck!” It took all his goddamn self control to kick the coffee table instead of throwing the hairbrush against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Otabek asked.

Yuri turned to see him coming closer, hesitantly. He wanted to say something nasty, something like “I’ve been asking you that same damn question forever, and  _ you _ never gave me an answer.” But he bit it back

“Yeah,” Yuri said instead. “I just can’t get my fucking hair out of my face.”

“Oh,” Otabek said, coming to sit on the couch beside him. “Do you want some help?”

Yuri fought the urge to move away from him. Instead, resigned, he just handed him the hairbrush.

Otabek took it, running his fingers through Yuri’s hair to find the tangles. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of Otabek’s hands in his hair. It should have felt nice, he should’ve melted back into the touch. Instead, something about it just made him even more frustrated.

“When’s the last time you brushed this?” Otabek asked. His tone was so flat--Yuri couldn’t tell if it was concerned or judgemental or what.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking know. I’ve never had it this long, I’m not used to taking care of it.”

“That’s why I keep mine short,” Otabek said. “Less work that way.”

_ Well ain’t that just a fucking metaphor, _ Yuri thought. He didn’t know why such an inane conversation about hair care was hitting him so hard. But something about the way he said it... so casually and --

A sudden tug followed by a sharp pain in his scalp interrupted his thought spiral.

“Ow!” Yuri stood up and whirled around to face Otabek. “What the  _ fuck _ , Beka?!”

Otabek stared at him, stunned. “Sorry. I was trying to get a tangle out.” He didn’t sound sorry. Not as sorry as Yuri wanted him to, at least.

“You could’ve fucking  _ warned  _ me!”

“Sorry, I’ll be gentler,” he said placatingly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was because he touched him, but whatever it was, Yuri was  _ pissed _ .

“Don’t  _ fucking  _ touch me, asshole!” he snarled.

Otabek’s eyes hardened. “Fine. Sorry. Whatever,” he said, tossing the brush onto the table. “Brush your own damn hair.”

Yuri growled and stomped his foot. Maybe it was childish, but fuck Otabek was pissing him off. He could feel a whole summer’s worth of frustration finally spilling over inside of him. He’d known he was getting closer and closer to the breaking point. Now he’d finally hit it and he could finally call this what it was.

“It’s not about the goddamn hair and you fucking know it!”

Otabek rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “Oh really.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a stupid fifteen-year-old, Beka!” Yuri shouted. “Something’s been going on for weeks and you won’t tell me what it is!”

“Is this about the DJ thing again?” Otabek asked, keeping his tone even and his stance infuriatingly condescending.

“That was a fucking distraction! Did you really think I didn't  _ know _ ?!”

Otabek could have said a lot of things in that moment that would have pissed Yuri off. In fact, pretty much anything that would have come out of his mouth at that point would have pissed Yuri off. But what he said next was almost the worst possible thing he could have said.

Without thought, Otabek said; “You’re imagining things.”

“Don’t you fucking gaslight me, Otabek!” Yuri shouted, not even caring at this point that he was  _ definitely  _ crying. “Don’t you  _ dare _ ! I put up with that bullshit my entire goddamn childhood, I won’t let you do the same thing!”

“I’m not -” Otabek started, but seemed too stunned at the sight of Yuri crying to give a proper retort. “I don’t -”

“Fucking hell,” Yuri said, voice cracking as he wiped his eyes. “I’m gonna go. Before you try to distract me with sex and use me as your living dildo.”

That seemed to snap Otabek out of it. “What are you talking about?!”

Yuri shook his head, already heading for the door. He was just... exhausted. “Call me when you want to tell me what’s really going on.”

Yuri had the door open when Otabek yelled;

“Call me when you grow the fuck up!”

Yuri slammed the door, and didn’t even have to wait two seconds to hear it lock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FanGirlAndProudOfIt: Listen y'all I'm sorry we didn't get this up sooner but I am a musical theater major and I fucking WROTE A MUSICAL FOR MY SENIOR THESIS
> 
> Am I defensive? Yes. Yes I am.
> 
> Vampiremiw: got bit by a seagull. back now.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned......................................


End file.
